‘Dear Australia: kings are foolish. But for this reason Britain caught with them’

King Charles is taking a break from cancer treatment for a state visit to Australia, and the antipodean equivalent of regional mayors have all found somewhere else to be.

Although support for the monarchy is – for Australia – pretty healthy at the moment, it’s easy to understand why state premiers from all sides of the political spectrum Down Under would rather get their nails done.

Being pictured bending the knee is something politicians only like doing for young and glamorous Royals, pop stars, or Hollywood idols. Not old, dull people. And we know this is true, because if the Princess of Wales was to turn up in Sydney mid-cancer treatment these raging hypocrites would be fighting each other to do the grip-and-grin.

And let’s be honest – kingship is even sillier than celebrity. Someone without natural talents to elevate them above the herd gets to wear a shiny hat and be treated special. But the difference between Australia and Britain is that we’ve come to terms with it, and they still don’t get the joke. So let’s explain.

1. We got rid of Royalty. It led to getting rid of Christmas, theatres, feathers in hats, and all other forms of fun. In its place we got Old Ironsides, gloom, doom, and political princelings. We told Royalty it could come back if it behaved itself. It has. This is what we in the northern hemisphere call ‘a win-win’.

2. They have far too many houses, free cars, clothes leant to them by designers trying to get noticed, and are surrounded by the sort of hangers-on desperate for a smidgeon of prestige and influence that you’d think they were Parliamentarians. But, unlike MPs, their entire life story is offered up to the public as an international soap opera as payment. It’s icky and immoral, but that’s the deal, and there are many servants, press officers and palaces for them to hide behind.

3. You may think it pathetic that a modern nation expends any energy on the ins-and-outs of a group of privileged idiots with barely a brain cell between them. Well, you could say the same for Neighbours, and add that it is derivative, trite, and past its sell-by date – but you export it to us nevertheless.

4. Yes, Charles once fantasised about being a tampon. But at least he never popped his collar up and cavorted with shop dummies in a badly-lit alleyway, like Paul Robinson did. ICK.

5. Last time we got rid of Royalty, we also got rid of the Crown jewels. They were melted down or stripped and sold off to run the country. No-one noticed a marked uptick in the national standard of living, the same as if you sold off Sandringham, Balmoral and Highgrove. There’d just be another rich man living there, when he probably has three houses already. It might be a prince living up at the big house, but at least it’s not a Putin stooge.

6. One luxury they enjoy is to do what others ignore. When Prince William talked about the Royal ivory collection being destroyed, museums started talking about handing things back. When Charles supported a research project into his family’s historic links to the slave trade, people started taking reparations more seriously. When Camilla holds a domestic abuse conference, victims feel seen. They can, sometimes, start a conversation about stuff no-one mentioned before.

7. Yes, Prince Andrew. I refer you to the last sentence of point 6.

8. The joke is that this position of incredible power has had all the power removed from it, apart from the bits we deemed meaningless. This vestigial kingship is invisible, conditional, and wielded mainly as the result of some unemployable twit licking a finger and sticking it in the air to see which way the wind is blowing. The REALLY funny bit is that – worryingly often – they get it right.

Australian politics, like that of many nations without a Royal family, is very serious. There are rows, racism, misogyny, arguments and the only alternative is someone who seems worse.

But there is nothing funnier about having a shiny hat covered in stolen gems perched on the furrowed brow of a man who seems certain it’s about to topple off in the middle of Westminster Abbey. Nothing better than watching a Christmas speech knowing millions of bottoms will be releasing sprouty parps by way of applause.

No finer accolade to the social benefits of a constitutional monarchy than allowing the emperor to twirl before a populace that has decided it’s best not to tell him those new clothes aren’t really working, on the grounds that it all adds gaiety to the nation.

All right, he’s a Pommie ponce who couldn’t win a nose-picking contest, never mind a war or a job. But tell me, who would you take pot shots at, who would you blame, who would mark the events in the calendar and the passing of time, if not a famous family of ne’er-do-wells whose ability to cause trouble has been almost entirely amputated by public consent?

What Australia needs to remember about this state visit is that Charles and Camilla aren’t popping in to restart colonial rule. They’re there to do the things the Australian and British governments have told them to. Which means honouring the achievements of prominent Australians in sports and the arts, visiting community projects, raising awareness of domestic abuse initiatives. Stuff no-one, anywhere, has a single problem with.

So yes it’s a rigmarole. But overall, it’s family entertainment.

Laughing at the silly man doing silly things reminds us and him that he’s no different, without the hat. And we let him have the hat because, a) you can’t see it unless someone’s wearing it and b) it’s our hat, not his. In a way he’s not a king, but a court jester – there to lighten the grimmer moments, point out a few home truths, and never allowed to get too big for his boots.

There isn’t a better person to have as a head of state, because if you gave a politician a tenth of the attention and privilege they’d go rotten in a week. The only alternative to Royalty is po-faced pomposity, and last time I checked that was not Australia’s thing. Britain has a king because we couldn’t think of anything funnier, and if Australia doesn’t like it, well that’s funnier still.